


The Westergard Conquest

by secretcastle



Category: Aladdin (1992), Frozen (Disney Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretcastle/pseuds/secretcastle
Summary: In the vicious Southern Isles court where rumor and scandal ran rampant and the temptation is always lurking, an encounter with a mysterious woman during a masked ball will force Hans to rethink about the walls of proprietary he built with his wife. This story is a one-shot AU Frozen outtake from "The Queen's Admiral."
Relationships: Elsa & Hans (Disney), Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	The Westergard Conquest

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few years ago after I ended "The Queen's Admiral" but only managed to finish it now. You don't have to read "The Queen's Admiral" to appreciate this for it can serve as a standalone AU one-shot, but it helps to do so to understand the context of the situation. I wanted to explore the intimate aspects of Hans' and Elsa's marriage and how their roles can affect and sometimes even test their relationship.

"Would you care to dance?"

The strange woman's words were like honey: soothing, inviting, tempting. A lifetime ago he wouldn't even think twice about taking her hand. He would twirl her on the dance floor and in less than the length of one dance can convince her to duck behind a curtain where he could claim her lips. If her kisses interested him enough, he could make an effort to claim the rest of her in a night. However, now his Royal Highness Prince Hans Westergard, official adviser of the Southern Isles and Consort to the Queen Arendelle was just annoyed, more with himself than this woman who was trying to flirt with him.

_A masquerade ball to celebrate the Southern Isles' Founding Anniversary? What was I thinking?!_

"I don't dance," he said dismissively at the masked lady before he turned and walked away. He had taken five steps before he realized he just echoed his wife's words. Those were the first three words she ever said to him almost twenty years ago. She probably didn't even remember it. Elsa was a newly crowned queen then and he was among dozen hopefuls that she coldly rejected that night.

It struck him how things have changed. Tonight, he was the royal being pursued and he was sure none of these aspiring women were doing so for honorable intentions. He was married and yet women seem to be popping all over the place and attempting to gain his favor. There were far more of them now than when he was younger and single. He had no delusions that he was getting this attention because he was handsome and charming. He was more likely to believe these women were after his money and power. As a husband to one queen and adviser to another, his position was quite enviable and came with a lot of advantages.

He also suspected these women were part of a ploy by one of his brothers to discredit him in the Southern Isles court so they can move into Brigitta's good graces. The recent spate of rumors he was hearing about himself seemed suspicious enough. His spies had picked up that the common folk in the Southern Isles were talking a lot about him lately. Or rather talking about what people believed was his cold marriage to the "Ice Queen of Arendelle." He wasn't too surprised people thought of their marriage that way. He and Elsa were never affectionate in public as they would prefer to keep a professional front. However, the nasty rumors of Elsa being a frigid queen who refused to warm her husband's bed still left a sour taste in his mouth every time he heard it. It didn't help that said rumor seemed to invite women who had the fantastical idea that he was willing to let them heat his bed in his wife's absence.

He missed Elsa and the more welcoming comfort of Arendelle. It's been almost three months since he last came home to his adopted country. He would have wanted to come home more frequently using Carpet. However, Fredrik had taken the magical rug to Vienna on an extended diplomatic mission and he had no recourse but to take a ship back. The journey would just take too long. Since it was almost winter, the journey would not be practical as well for the fjord surrounding Arendelle would be frozen over at this time. Meanwhile, his eighteen-year-old niece Brigitta needed him more than ever when rumors of an insurrection against her in some of the provinces again resurfaced only last week.

Since his eldest brother's death two years ago, Hans had taken an active role as Brigitta's adviser in rebuilding the Southern Isles from the ravages of the civil war between his two older brothers Sigurd and Heinrik. As an unmarried teenage queen, Brigitta had her share of challenges. The Southern Isles had been ruled by men for more than four centuries and having a female as a sole monarch, and underage one at that was something that the nobility saw as a weakness. Brigitta was constantly being pressured to sign a provision to have an official regent rule for her before she reached her 21st birthday, the age when she can be officially crowned as queen. However, Hans knew his niece's capabilities and didn't believe such a measure was necessary. A regency would only serve to undermine the young queen's role.

Even now, Hans was aware of the precariousness of Brigitta's position. Her remaining uncles were always on the sidelines, publicly showing her support, but privately maneuvering things in their favor. There had been quite a number of subtle sparks that had already popped up over the past few months that Hans had to counter before they could rise into full-blown power grabs. There were little insurrections here and there, allegations of corruption, or even vulgar graffiti besmirching Brigitta's reputation left in public places. Hans suspected his brothers were just warming up. He expected worse things to come. It always did when it came to the Westergards.

Tonight's affair was an important event for the Southern Isles. It honored the establishment of the Westergard dynasty and was the biggest yearly celebration of the nation next to Christmas. It was the perfect opportunity to assert the stability of Brigitta's reign as a Westergard ruler. Hans orchestrated it to be the perfect night of splendid royal pageantry without losing an element of fun. Brigitta appeared in her own ball inconspicuously, allowing her the freedom to mingle for once without having to be the center of attention. To make it a more unique night, Hans came up with a rule that only women can ask men to dance for this particular ball. It would ensure that Brigitta can choose which partners she would dance with, eliminating the unsavory ones that hoped only to win her hand for their own agendas.

 _And she seems to be enjoying herself,_ he thought with relief as he glimpsed her talking to a dark-haired young man who was leading her to the dance floor. _At least she gets to experience a few carefree moments of her youth for one night._

His spirits dampened as he saw another masked lady dressed as some kind of overly decorated goose heading towards him. _This is not exactly good for me,_ Hans thought regretfully.

Maybe he shouldn't have picked the costume he was wearing: a blue and white tailored outfit decorated with snowflakes, paired with a crystal mask that imitated ice. He thought dressing up as an ice prince announced to the court he was the Prince Consort of Arendelle and would discourage the women from approaching him. Now he realized it only served to make him an easier target.

"Snow Prince, how unique?" Lady Goose called out flirtatiously to him. "Are you by chance the Prince of Arendelle?"

Hans rolled his eyes. This one wasn't even trying to be subtle. She was blonde like most of the women that had been approaching him all evening. In fact, he noticed there was a quite an unusual number of blondes in the room when most Southern Isles women were darker haired. Something was definitely going on.

"I am," Hans replied to Lady Goose in as icy tone as he could muster. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm off to freeze someone's heart."

He walked away without giving her time to say another word. He paused by a server carrying a tray of champagne flutes. He grabbed one and downed the sparkling wine in one gulp. It went down too smoothly down his throat it was almost sickening. He needed something stronger.

"Get me a brandy, will you?" he asked the server who bowed to obey.

"Save him the trouble little brother," Hans recognized Reidar's voice before he even turned around. His eighth brother was wearing a rather flamboyant pirate costume in red and gold, a matching feathered hat, and a fake thin black mustache that reminded Hans of his one-time friend Captain James Crochet. Reidar handed him a glass filled with amber liquid which Hans hesitated to accept as an unpleasant memory came to him.

"I didn't put a bug in it in this time," Reidar teased with a wicked grin.

Hans raised an eyebrow but finally concluded they were both too old to be playing practical jokes. He accepted the drink but sipped it carefully.

"You're being quite aloof. What is wrong with her?" Reidar asked. "She was being nice," the way he said the last word, left no question on what exactly he was hinting.

"I'm not interested," Hans replied curtly.

"Hans, Hans, Hans, lighten up," Reider drawled on condescendingly. "I'm not sure how those uptight Arendellians do it but you know how things are done here at home. You can partake little brother. It's all free." His eyes roamed over and settled on Lady Goose and her curvy backside.

Hans just shrugged. The Southern Isles court was quite open to marital infidelities. The Westergard men, in particular, were known to have kept mistresses over the years. Hans' own grandfather had three that he even gave positions of power in his own court and granted his illegitimate children with them minor lordships. Hans' eldest brother Sigurd was the only one Hans knew who had so far been faithful to his wife. Yet even the straight-laced former King, as Brigitta confirmed, kept a few dalliances on the side once he became a widower.

"Your wife hasn't frozen your bits, has she?" Reidar teased.

"Excuse me?" Hans replied incredulously. No one but his most lecherous brother would ever say that outright.

"Relax brother. I just heard that rumor going around at court. Don't shoot the messenger. I'm quite concerned about you. You just don't seem to have the same zest for these things as you used to when we were younger. So maybe I was wondering if you might need… help?"

Hans seethed. So now his manhood was the latest target of the gossips.

"Whatever you heard, it's not true," he dismissed.

Reidar formed that cat-in-the-cream smile that was a typical Westergard brand of grin. "So what is the truth, Hans? I'm just curious. How is Elsa really in bed?"

Hans was tempted to say exactly how it really went with Elsa just to wipe that grin off his brother's face. However, he decided Reidar with his twisted mind, would probably use that information in other ways to undermine him in the future. He wasn't going to share the most private aspect of his marital life with this scumbag when Reidar admitted years ago he wanted Elsa for himself.

"My relationship with my wife is none of your business," he simply growled.

"Fine," Reidar backed down. "I'll leave you and your wife alone. I'm sure you're quite happy with each other." He paused to gaze at the room full of women who mostly turned towards their direction. "But should you decide you're not, you know there are other options."

Reidar walked away and soon blended with the crowd of women. Hans was sure his brother's bed wouldn't remain empty tonight. In fact, it would probably end up quite overcrowded, knowing his brother's taste for multiple partners in one go. Hans didn't envy his brother, but he did wish for a bit of comfort after these trying weeks.

_Oh Elsa, I wish you weren't so far away._

He decided to quit the party early. It was almost midnight anyway, the hour that everyone was to unmask and reveal themselves. He didn't fancy staying on for that when he could better spend a quiet evening alone writing to Elsa again. He had already finished twelve letters to her this week. As it was difficult to send in letters via ships, he tended to write as many letters over the course of a few days and send it in one go. Elsa had a habit of doing the same. He received fifteen letters from her in the last packet that arrived. He intended to beat her record and he might as well work on it tonight.

He walked purposefully towards the main staircase, determined to ignore anyone who dared to stop him. He stared straight ahead so he wouldn't have to meet the eyes of the dozens of women trying to make contact. He had almost reached his goal and was already congratulating himself for his evasive maneuvers when he stopped altogether.

At the foot of the staircase, there stood a single figure. She was tall, slim, and fair, attired in a skin-hugging gown that appeared to change color from red to orange to gold at her every movement. Her matching mask glowed with the same fiery colors and was made to appear like there were tongues of flames licking at her face without singing her pale skin. Finally, a crown of what looked like pure fire sat atop her head, reflecting light so brightly he couldn't tell the exact hue of her hair color underneath.

She stood silently, her face directed at him. However, her flame mask hid her eyes so well he couldn't be certain where she was looking at in the entire ballroom, much less if she even saw him at all. Her lips parted slightly for an infinitesimal second before they closed again into a thin line. Something about the way her mouth moved sent a chill through Hans' spine.

She moved forward with confident steps and Hans found he couldn't look away. _Who is this woman?_

A golden plumed knight made it to her side first and welcomed her with a kiss on her hand. The gesture made the hairs at the back of Hans' neck prickle uncomfortably. Hans immediately knew the knight was his ninth brother Ivar.

"Welcome my lady. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet tonight," Ivar said in smooth tones.

Hans couldn't hear her reply. She allowed herself to be led by Ivar to the middle of the floor. She moved gracefully in his brother's arms, her dress lighting up the ballroom like a dancing flame so much that people stopped dancing altogether to watch the couple. Hans gazed at them, fascinated with the display. She seemed engrossed in her movements, yet somehow he felt that her eyes were on him throughout it.

The dance was a short one, but just as soon as it did, Jarle, Hans' eleventh brother who came dressed as a laurel-endowed Roman gladiator was there to ask her to join him in a faster number. Like the first dance, she executed the steps perfectly with such exuberance. Matched with his brother's own graceful movements coupled with his excellent physique, the two of them were exhilarating to watch.

"If she was wearing real fire she would have burned down the entire Southern Isles castle by now," said one lady behind Hans.

He couldn't agree with her more. By now, Hans could almost feel the temperature around him increase and he felt it most intensely when the dance ended. The Flaming Lady at her last pose turned her face directly at Hans and he was certain she was looking at him. He still couldn't see her eyes, but he felt the heat of her gaze, inviting him to come to her.

He forced himself to look away while he twisted the gold band on his finger as a reminder to himself. When he looked up, the Fire Goddess had her hands clasped with his tenth brother, Gunnar who came as the Sun King Louis XIV. Together, they put on a display of the minuet that was reminiscent of the lost era of the decadence of Versailles. His brother certainly looked the part and she could have passed for one of his French mistresses. Hans suspected Gunnar's real French mistress was seething somewhere in the crowd, but he did not dare to even let his gaze travel within the room to check. This fiery woman commanded his attention completely. The slower-paced music allowed her to occasionally look at his direction. Each time she did, Hans felt her silent order for him to approach her.

"Found something you like?" Reidar's tease stung sharply at his ear. He was about to reply something snide but the Fiery Vixen looked at him once more that whatever he was about to say left his tongue-tied. It took him a moment to even come up with a response.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said before he mentally kicked himself for being so distracted he couldn't even make a proper retort to his brother.

"You're pathetic Hans," Reidar openly jeered. "Well, if you're not interested, I am."

Reidar quickly left his side and Hans could do nothing but watch as his brother came behind Gunnar and offered himself as the lovely firewoman's next partner. To Hans' dismay, the next dance was a waltz, the most intimate of all dances that allowed Reidar closer access to the woman than any of her previous partners. The way Reidar held her spiked a fury within Hans that he did not expect. He came forward at the edge of the dance floor as close as possible to the dancing couple and tried to catch her eye. However, she refused to look his way. Reidar was talking to her and she appeared to be absorbed on what he was saying. At one point Reidar leaned over and whispered something into her ear and Hans caught the smirk that curved her lips as she leaned back and replied in return.

_That smirk! It can't be!_

His heart quickened in a dizzy mixture of excitement and fury. He would have cut Reidar off and take her abruptly but the waltz had ended just then. He left his brandy on a nearby passing tray and strode towards her.

"Will you dance the next dance with me, my lady?" he blurted out at her, almost rudely pushing Reidar out of the way. He expected her to welcome his presence. To his surprise, she didn't. Her lips remained a thin line, almost annoyed by his interruption.

"I think I've had my fill of dancing for the moment," she replied coolly. "A lady can only dance so much before needing refreshment. You must pardon me Sir, but this gallant pirate has engaged my company."

"But certainly my lady, if this gentleman wishes to dance with you, I would be happy to give way—" Reidar began but was abruptly interrupted when the Fiery Goddess laid a gentle hand on his arm and whispered something in his ear.

Hans' blood boiled at the gesture but he was even more confused when she muttered a curt "Excuse us, Sir" in his direction, took Reidar's offered arm and left with him. They sat together at the other end of the room and sipped glasses of champagne and continued talking in low tones. She appeared quite determined to ignore Hans completely.

Hans was baffled until he remembered they were all masked and he and his brothers had similar built and shades of hair, making it almost impossible to tell them apart. Reidar, in particular, was among his brothers closest to him in features and their voices were almost the same. _Is it possible she doesn't realize who she's talking to? Or maybe_ _I'm the one being deceived and she's not who I think she is at all?_

Reidar stood up and offered a hand to her that she accepted. A Scottish reel was already in progress so whatever Reidar was offering her it wasn't to join him for a dance. Hans feared his brother was maneuvering her to any of the more secluded balconies that were built around the ballroom, the ones where the infamous seductions of the Westergard princes often took place in these gatherings right in the middle of their formal parties.

_Strange woman or not, I'm not going to take any chances. Reidar's not having her tonight._

He quickly grabbed the nearest woman, one who had been eyeing him earlier, and didn't give her time to protest. He brought her into the dance and carefully maneuvered her towards the direct path of Reidar and his lovely companion. With a few quick steps in time to the music, he hurled his unsuspecting partner in Reidar's direction then seized the fiery woman.

"Sir, I—" she began but Hans was quick to cut her off.

"Glad I caught you," he told her as he urged her to move with him. She only missed half a beat before she followed his lead. They weaved through the throng of dancers, safe from Reidar for the moment.

"You're quite impertinent, kidnapping a lady from her chosen partner!" she said haughtily. Her voice was slightly familiar yet he could not be certain she was who he suspected.

"Is that you—"

"Hush," she replied. "No names. We're not supposed to reveal who we are just yet until midnight. Rules of the masquerade, you know. Prince Hans imposed them, so we must all comply."

Hans raised an eyebrow at her but didn't have time to reply. This was one dance where changing of partners was required and she was swept away by another gentleman while he was forced to take another partner. It didn't take long before the partners shifted and he encountered her again. He was ready with a comeback:

"You make Prince Hans sound like a tyrant who forces people to take out all the fun."

"I figured he must be. From what I heard, he's a dull sort of character," she replied before she stepped away from him again as their partners shifted once more.

_Dull character? I am anything but dull!_

He almost missed a step but he was quick to pick up until he came before her again.

"What exactly do you mean Prince Hans is a dull sort of character?" he demanded incredulously.

"Oh I don't blame him at all, no of course not," she said condescendingly. "I suppose the poor man can't help himself, being so unhappy with his err… situation."

She was gone again and left Hans even more dumbfounded and confused than ever. One twirl and she was back in his arms once more.

"What situation? Why would you think he's unhappy?"

"I heard a rumor. " She paused to allow him to twirl her. "His wife is shall we say… unaccommodating of his needs, poor man." Her next words seriously cast doubts about her identity. "I suppose, it's to be expected. She is, after all, the ice queen."

_If she's who I think she is, what in the world is she playing at? Is she angry at these rumors and came to confirm them? Maybe she still doesn't know who I am? Is she fishing for information from who she thinks is one of my brothers? Or maybe this is an entirely different person I'm talking to and I'm just being delusional!_

He decided the best course of action was just to play along. One way or the other he would find out the truth and at least keep her away from Reidar.

 _And maybe have a little harmless fun on the side,_ a naughty thought entered his head. He felt the familiar thrill of pursuit, the challenge of a mystery waiting to unravel.

"Why does it matter if she is the Ice Queen?" Hans asked carefully. "Why would you think he wouldn't be happy with her?"

"All I know is what I've heard," she replied innocently.

He spun her half an arm's length then drew her towards him. "And what have you heard?"

"People say he hasn't been home in Arendelle for months. He's always here when he's supposed to be the prince consort of Arendelle."

Hans shifted uncomfortably. Had he been remiss on his duties in Arendelle? Was Elsa feeling abandoned by his absence? She had always appeared supportive of him in taking this advisor position and helping Brigitta. But just maybe, deep down Elsa did mind these long trips away from home.

"I also heard there might be another reason he's not coming home," she continued. "Before I came into the ballroom I met quite a number of women who seemed eager to get to know Prince Hans. In fact, they were all hoping to get a dance with him tonight."

 _So she heard about that too._ He had to be careful with this one. "So you think he has other women on the side?" he asked as he watched her reaction. However, her lips (the only feature he could discern from her mask) remained unexpressive.

"Oh no, he's not having an affair. At least, not yet."

"Not yet?!" Hans couldn't help but utter incredulously. "What makes you think he will have one?"

They had to change partners again so she couldn't reply for several seconds. Hans was practically bursting with anxiety on this woman's assumption that he was about to be unfaithful.

"One of his brothers assures me he will," she replied when she was again within hearing distance.

"Which one?" Hans almost shouts. "And what does he know?"

She remained steadily calm as if she didn't hear his raised tone. "I'm not sure which one, but he's the charming one dressed as a pirate."

_Reidar that bastard! Why am I not surprised?_

"Oh he means well," she continued. "The pirate, I mean. In fact, he's expressed a deep concern for his brother's situation."

 _Oh, I'm sure he does!_ Hans thought sarcastically and added just as snidely. "Oh pray, tell, how concerned was he?"

"Concerned enough that he decided to give his youngest brother a little… shall we say helping hand."

"Helping hand? In what way?"

She smiled wistfully. "I sort of just figured it out. The whole time we were dancing, he seems to think that he sent me?"

Now Hans was just confused again. "Sent you?"

"He mentioned he sent a few women out tonight to make sure his youngest brother doesn't get lonely. He said he was getting quite frustrated that the other women haven't even succeeded in getting a dance with Prince Hans. He was hoping I would be the one to achieve it. He assured me, should I succeed the reward would be worth my time."

_So the plot unfolds. I knew there was something going on with these women! So what did Reidar want? I'm sure he's not doing it out of brotherly concern that I'm not getting laid enough._

"And what exactly do you need to succeed in to get the reward?" he asked directly. "Certainly, it has to be more than a dance."

"His exact words were I should 'keep Prince Hans warm and his tongue loose.'"

A chill crept down Hans' spine at her revelation. He wasn't at all surprised at Reidar employing such dirty tricks to put a spy in his bed. What worried him was this woman—if she truly was someone Reidar employed—came close to enticing him. He weighed her cautiously. Even her revelation meant nothing. She could be lying to him completely and was just saying this to throw him off from another plot.

_On the other hand, if she's not and she's really my jealous wife fishing for evidence on my infidelity… well, I'm not passing up the chance to prove to Elsa exactly how I feel about her._

"So did the pirate really send you?" he asked bluntly, hoping the direct question rattled her enough to reveal something to him.

Her lips remained impassive and she answered with coolly. "The pirate—whoever he is—can keep his reward. I'm after something much more valuable."

"Oh and what is that?" he asked.

He drew her closer than necessary, hoping the gesture would make her uneasy.

It didn't. Instead of pulling away, she leaned over close to him that he felt her breath tickle his ear.

"Prince Hans' frozen heart melting in my hands."

Her words sent his skin tingling and his heart began to race that he missed a step completely and crashed into the dancer next to him. He immediately apologized and picked up his pace. His lady companion merely pouted at him haughtily and it sent shivers of arousal racing through his body. He felt suddenly furious at himself that he was feeling this way and angry at her for making him do so.

_If she's a spy trying to get to me, I'll make her pay. If she's Elsa… I'm still making her pay but I'm going to be enjoying it immensely._

He held her closer just as the notes of the music were slowing down indicating the dance was about to be over. "You think you can melt Prince Hans' heart when his ice queen wife, as they say, has already frozen it solid?"

"I don't think I can. I know I will."

"Such confidence," he mocked her challenge before he went on for the direct approach. "Perhaps you can start by identifying Prince Hans first in this room full of Westergards."

The dance finally came to an end and they both bowed to each other before she lifted her head again and spoke. "Oh, I already know who he is. I've already danced with him this evening…"

He waited for her to acknowledge him but she instead shrugged her shoulders before speaking almost lazily. "I'll wait for him to catch on..."

She abruptly turned away and Hans was now even more confused until he realized she was walking straight to the refreshments table where Ivar, Gunnar, and Jarle were all lounging and staring in her direction. All three of them stopped whatever they were doing and stared as she sauntered her way towards them. The chest puffs and the grins on their faces told Hans his brothers were all but fighting over the chance to be with her again.

It took him five quick strides to reach her. He caught her arm and jerked her back towards him almost angrily. The moment he did, he realized his own gesture was what she planned all along. She had baited him with his brothers and he fell or it.

"I've caught on. Now what do you want?" he whispered to her.

"A little stroll about the room in your company," she replied back in the same almost lazy drawl. "Unless you're afraid of getting… warm?"

The double entendre of the last word both enticed and shot danger signals over his body. However, he was not backing down now.

 _I could play this game better than you can,_ he thought before he whispered back almost intimately in her ear: "Oh I'm ready to be scorched tonight, but are you willing to burn with me?"

Her only answer was a triumphant little smile. He offered his arm and she willingly took it. He gave a smug pout in the direction of his three brothers who based on the thin line of their lips were not quite amused she had chosen to stay with him. As they moved away from the throng of dancers on the main floor, he caught a glimpse of Reider who raised a glass of brandy in his direction—a subtle gesture that his sleazy brother was cheering him on.

He moved his arm and possessively placed it on her waist as he steered her past the crowds. Hans could see from his peripheral version the stares of the other women as they walked by. Even with their masks on, he could still feel the animosity of those gazes directed at his mysterious companion. She, however, didn't appear to be fazed at all. She gracefully walked on, her head high as if she owned the castle these other women dared to occupy.

They reached the end of the ballroom but instead of taking her to the main staircase that led out into the vast gardens, he stirred her to another door.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'm taking you on a little tour of the Westergard castle. If you're set on melting me, you might as well get to know a little about my family."

"I would be much more interested in you," she asked.

"Oh but you can't know me until you know my family," he said. The gilded door took them into a long hallway that was almost ostentatious in its décor with its high vaulted ceilings, gold-painted frames, heavy drapes, and sparkling chandeliers. The walls here were adorned with the portraits of various Westergard kings long dead. Each handsome redhead was dressed in the finest fashion of their day depicted in an imposing manner. A lot of them held swords and other similar arms, others rode on horseback while a few posed behind a background of ships. It was all a testament to the military strength of the Southern Isles and the virility of the men that ruled them over the centuries. At the end of this parade of male vanity, was the throne room where the king of the day would sit and lord over whoever unfortunate visitor came to see him.

Hans hated this corridor and the throne room at the end most of all. It represented everything he hated about the family he grew up with. Throughout his childhood, he had been marched through this hallway several times and met with verbal abuse, humiliation, and punishment at the end once he reached the throne room. Even after so long, he could still remember how each time he walked this way, he felt as if all of his dead ancestors were deriding him for being the disappointing unlucky, unwanted thirteenth son.

"So you brought me here to tell me about your family history?" his companion asked as she stopped in the middle of the hallway and appeared to be taking in the scenery.

"In a way, what do you think of it?" He eyed her carefully. He remembered how Elsa reacted in this room the first time they were here together when Sigurd caught them stealthily traversing through the Southern Isles to get to the Weselton coast. As an effort to impress, Sigurd had led them through this hallway deliberately before receiving them in the throne room. Elsa passed through the halls without even as much as a second glance at the figures on the walls, as if they mattered little to her. She probably didn't think the classic manly poses were interesting enough. Arendelle's castle though frugal by comparison to the Southern Isles castle was quite the opposite of this hallway. The paintings on its walls were filled with more lively scenes of people in ordinary activities while the more personal portraits were always of the royal family and their faithful servants, not just the king. Pictures of everyday lives and families were what mattered to Elsa. Hans had his own picture with Elsa, Olaf, Anna, Kristoff, and their children with Sven and Sitron made just months after they married. That family portrait now hung in a prominent place in the main ballroom. Rapunzel was currently working on a rather goofy one of him and Elsa with Olaf surrounded by the Marshmallows during a snowball fight that he intended to be hung in the library. He knew an informal picture like that would never be displayed in the Southern Isles.

"There's a rather lack of women here," she observed.

"It's not surprising," Hans replied. "There's never been a queen in the Southern Isles who has ruled before Brigitta. Until she came along, the royal women of the Southern Isles occupy a rather secondary role in this castle."

"So the royal women are just ornaments of the Westergard men?" she asked.

"Some were. But not all," Hans contradicted. "Southern Isles women get their own power in different ways. The Westergard men may end up with their portraits on the walls and their names written down for posterity but behind the scenes, the women in my family have always yielded considerable influence over the men. Sigurd's wife, Brigitta's grandmother was one of them. She had Sigurd's ear for more than 30 years and she had a hand in a lot of the policies he imposed without most people knowing about it. There's something to be said about being a Westergard spouse."

"Or mistress?" she asked with a coy smile on her lips.

Hans didn't miss the hint. "And mistress. If she would dare enough." He moved towards one of the portraits surrounded by thick drapes and pulled the edge away to reveal something beyond that was not quite visible. "Would you dare then?" He gestured to her to go through.

She met his eyes and she didn't even blink when she followed him in.

"Well this is a surprise," she said as she took in what lay beyond the drapes. They were in a little alcove with a window and a view of the shrubberies beyond. With the drapes covering the entrance, only the dim moonlight served to illuminate them. However, he could still make out the reclining couch by the window and a side table with a bottle of wine, a pair of glasses, and a tray of fruit and sweetmeats. It was the perfect nook for an intimate seduction, one he was all too familiar with thru experience.

"Are you really?" Hans teased. "Certainly you've heard of these places before in the Westergard castle." He paced behind her though he kept his body close to hers. "Little spaces that are hidden from view. Secluded balconies. Shrubberies in the garden that are off the usual paths. Unknown passages to spare bedrooms. Places where you can go to disappear for a little while…"

He let the words trail off, certain he would get her meaning.

"To hide… and escape," she spoke in barely a whisper.

Hans caught something like a hint of sadness in her tone and immediately knew why. He couldn't stop himself from smiling at her choice of words.

"Everyone has their secrets. You should know that by now with the Westergards."

"Including you?" she asked.

"Including me," he said without missing a beat. "Please do have a seat."

She gracefully sat at the edge of the couch, her body arched comfortably, and crossed one leg in what Hans knew was an invitation to come near her. He poured the wine into the glasses and handed her one. She accepted but didn't drink it.

"Have you taken me here to reveal a secret to me?" she asked.

"Maybe," he replied. "Or start a new one with you."

He saw the twitch of her shoulders and knew she was either nervous or excited by the prospect.

"Tell me," she said. "Have you started a secret with someone else here before?"

"Oh, I've started many secrets with a lot of people here before." He saw her chest heave and knew this was bothering her so he leaned down so his face was inches from her neck and he knew she could feel his breath across her skin. "What secret in particular do you want to know?"

She didn't answer and his response was to press against her back and blow at the nape of her neck. He felt her shudder.

"You're wondering if there had been other women I've taken here," he said as his hand moved to caress her jawline with his fingertips. When he reached her chin, he used his thumb to draw a line down her throat, eliciting a tiny gasp from her.

"You're asking yourself if I've been partaking in little trysts like my brothers have and like my brothers have claimed." His hand continued the line past her throat and stopped when he reached the edge of her bodice. He let his fingers slide along the edge of the fabric, teasing her with the possibility of invading further.

"You're thinking, 'has he ever been with someone else here in this position?'" He let his fingers slide one last time until he stopped at the valley between her breasts. "Has he touched someone else like this?"

His other hand suddenly moved under her skirt to caress her bare knee underneath. He was rewarded by her soft cry but at the same time, she pressed back closer to him, a clear invitation for him to go further. He was happy to oblige. His left hand moved upwards from her knee while his right hand explored her breast, circling the mound with gentle strokes. He ran his lips slowly down from her temple but stopped at her ear. "And do you know the answer to that?"

She could not reply except for a few ragged breaths.

"The answer is yes."

She stiffened and pulled away. He immediately felt the cold invade the little alcove.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" she cried out in such anguish he instantly regretted taking this too far.

He took off his mask so she could see his expression. "I'm sorry… I didn't… I didn't mean it..."

With a wave of her hand, her own mask melted away and he could see the blazing fury of her cold blue eyes. "Were they right? All those women who told me such vile gossip the entire evening? Your brothers who told me exactly how the Princes of the Southern Isles were expected to act with other women even if all of them are married? Have you been acting exactly what they said you were?"

"Elsa please…" he implored.

"You just told me—"

"Please let me finish," he cried desperately. "You're not the first woman I've taken here, it's true," he said. "But you're the only one I have brought here since I met you, and you're the only one I will ever again. I wouldn't have done anything intimate if I didn't know it was you I'm with tonight."

The cold dissipated as fast as it came. "You knew it was me?" she asked.

Hans nodded. "I wasn't certain at first until you said I used this place 'to hide and escape.' You knew I used places like this to get away from my brothers. Only you would know how I struggled to escape from their abuse. I'm afraid though that I also followed in some of their acts. I was young and stupid and also had my own share of debauchery. I've never indulged in it after I married you. I never needed nor wanted to…" He paused as he approached her once more until he was close to her again to touch her face. "Except with you."

"Hans?" she whispered tentatively. "I'm sorry… I overreacted."

He pressed his face towards her until their foreheads touched. "Shhh… it's okay, I was partly to blame. I wanted to have a little fun. To be honest, it was kind of thrilling to be seduced in public by you for once."

"Did it work?" she asked with the coy little smile lighting up the corners of her mouth.

"Absolutely," he replied before his lips covered hers. She kissed him back, opening her mouth slightly to allow him access. The flood of her wintry scent, the familiar warmth that emanated from her engulfed his senses and sent him reeling. He felt his knees gave way and he fell on his back down into the couch. She was on top of him in seconds. She hungrily devoured his neck and pulled at his buttons to expose his chest. Each expanse of his skin she uncovered she tasted with her lips and she left lines of chill trailing with each touch of her fingertips.

"I love you," he gasped between kisses.

"I love you too. It's been too long," she replied before claiming his lips once more.

They went at it for quite a long while until the need to breathe made them pull back. He held Elsa close with her head cradled on his now bare chest.

"How did you get here?" he asked while he lovingly ran his hands through the tendrils of her hair. The fire crown that she previously wore on her head had melted away sometime during their long heated kisses and he had messed with her updo until her tresses fell down freely.

"It was a long story, but basically I got tricked by Anna and Fredrik this afternoon. They pulled me out of my council meeting and said there was an emergency in Corona and Rapunzel needed help. Fredrik took me out on the Carpet and abducted me without my knowledge. We were already halfway across Weselton before I realized we weren't anywhere near Corona. Then our darling devious nephew abandoned me in the Southern Isles port and flew right back to his scheming mother! I never thought Anna would do something this drastic just to force me into a holiday!"

Hans laughed at Fredrik's and Anna's gumption. It had been a long time since they've played a trick like that to get Elsa out of working too hard. With the aid of the Flying Carpet, they made sure Elsa couldn't possibly go back to work. "So you're stuck here until Fredrik comes back for you?"

"Which he won't," she grumbled. "He said as much to me. He said if I wanted to go home to Arendelle, I will have to ask my husband to send me in a ship. He very well knows you can't do until two months from now because Arendelle's fjord is frozen solid until it thaws next spring. I swear Hans if Fredrik and Anna weren't the heirs to my crown, I would have them arrested for planning a coup. What they did is practically treason!"

"No, you won't. You have a habit of forgiving people who commit treason against you." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she responded with another kiss. The meeting of their lips was brief. He sat up so he can look at her face again. There was something else they needed to talk about.

"I'm glad Fredrik and Anna sent you here. I was missing you terribly and I figured based on how you reacted tonight, I'm not the only one. Elsa, I haven't been home often and I know you've always been supportive of me being here, but I need to know. If you really do mind, just say it. You are my priority."

"Hans…" she sighed deeply. "I can't let you leave Brigitta. She needs you. Arendelle is stable and at peace. You're needed here."

"But you need me too," Hans said. "Just as I need you. Elsa I know we never talk about this because we knew what we were getting into when we married. Even before we got together we knew this was the life we had. You and I, we have kingdoms to run, heirs to guide, and alliances to keep, but I can't keep doing this knowing I am sacrificing your happiness."

"I never expect you to abandon your obligations or ask me to abandon mine," Elsa replied.

"No, you won't. And I know I won't," Hans assured her. "That's not what we are. But it doesn't mean you have to take it all in suffering in silence. Just tell me. Do you feel neglected?"

It took her a long moment to reply, and when she did a single tear fell down her cheek. "Yes. Hans, I'm sorry, I know you're doing the best you can, but I just get so lonesome sometimes. Tonight, when Fredrik left me, I was actually looking forward to seeing you. Then on the way to the castle, I heard so many rumors from people who were getting ready to go to the ball about you, about us."

He held her close and cradled her head on his chest once more.

"I know they were just silly rumors, probably even implanted by your brothers. But they hurt Hans. I've been called the cold-hearted ice queen for so long, people assume it's true. I know we're partly to blame. We have never been showy of our affection in public. I'm the queen. I need to maintain a certain dignity in front of our people. But now most people are just seeing that I don't even love you. Tonight, when I spoke to so many women who were vying for your attention and claiming you were stuck in a cold marriage bed, I just wanted to prove them all wrong. I don't even know what I was thinking. It was petty and childish but I did it out of my own vanity or maybe just to get a rise out of you."

"Well you did get a rise out of me," he grinned lasciviously. "In more ways than one. And I'm not the only one. You pretty much showed an entire ballroom that my wife is probably the most tempting seductress alive and I am a very lucky man."

"You're not upset I flirted with your brothers?"

"Are you kidding? I have a streak of pettiness too and I would love to see the looks on their faces when I reveal to them who the fantasy woman they danced with last night turned out to be. Better yet, I'd love to see how they would react tomorrow at breakfast when they find you sitting like this." He pulled Elsa into his lap and began nuzzling her throat.

"Hans!" Elsa cried scandalized. "We are not going to have public displays of affection in front of your brothers!"

"Oh yes, we are," Hans argued. "Elsa, your feelings are valid. You don't have to hold it back and be proper all the time. I'm not afraid to show exactly how much I love you and you shouldn't be afraid too. In fact, for the duration of your stay here, I think we will have to be as nauseatingly affectionate in public as we can. I'm feeling a little neglected too, you know. I have scores of women after me because they think I am lacking female attention. Why don't you show them that I am yours alone?"

"That's not exactly a queenly thing to do," Elsa pouted though he could see a sparkle of interest in her eyes.

"You're not exactly the queen here, Elsa," Hans pointed out. "And as my brothers have already pointed out, the Southern Isles royalty do things a little differently from the uptight Arendellian decorum."

"Yes, I heard the Southern Isles princes were quite debauched," Elsa said as her tongue rolled across her lower lip. Hans did not miss the invitation as well as the sudden warmth that enveloped them. "Didn't you say something about secrets happening in hidden alcoves—"

He cut her off with a kiss, which soon intensified as his hands began roaming across her body, seeking to touch her in places he knew well would give her pleasure. However, she had other ideas. She pushed him roughly against the couch and was soon on top of him once more. He felt her lift her skirt as she settled on him, her legs straddling him in place. Her lips trailed from his neck, across his bare chest, and down to his navel. Her hands then pulled at his breeches, fumbling at them to open buttons. That was when he realized, they were probably going too far.

"We're not doing this here, Elsa," he protested.

"Why not?" she demanded almost irritably.

"Look, I know I've teased you tonight. But you're my wife and my queen, not some Westergard conquest to be taken in a semi-private space with people just a corridor away."

"In Arendelle maybe. You said so yourself, I'm not a queen here," she replied in that seductive manner that took his breath away. "Here, I don't mind being your paramour, even for one night. And as far as I'm concerned, tonight you're my Westergard conquest."

He could not fight over her argument, especially since the upper part of her fire gown appeared to be melting away before his eyes, revealing that glowing skin of her breasts in the moonlight he had been dreaming about for many nights now.

"Well Mrs. Westergard, do what you will with my melted heart then," he consigned with a grin before he let himself be taken by her ardor.

***

Prince Reider of the Southern Isles took in one last swing of brandy for the night. The night's festivities were winding down and most of the guests had already gone or were on their way to retire. His night though was just about to begin. He knew a couple of brunettes awaited him in his bedchamber. He decided to let them wait just a bit more. He wanted to make sure of one more thing to cap his night.

He stopped by a maid that was picking up stray glasses in a corner after the guests.

"Well?" he asked her.

"He came out about just a little more than an hour ago your highness. He wasn't alone. The woman came after him. Both were masked."

 _Three hours in an alcove. Hans must be more desperate than I imagined._ "And her hair?" he asked the maid.

The maid didn't even try to hide her smile. "Rumpled, your highness. So was his. He went straight to his bedchamber."

"Did she come with him?" he asked.

"Not exactly," the maid replied. "She… stopped by other bed chambers, one after the other, and spent about twenty minutes in each one."

"Whose chambers?" he asked, puzzled.

"That was the odd thing. She went to Prince Jarle's first, then Prince Gunnar's. The last time I checked she was in Prince Ivar's chambers."

Reidar was astonished. _Good Lord! This woman, whoever this whore is, is certainly ambitious! She didn't just stop at Hans! She's decided to take in all four of my brothers in one go!_ _I can't blame any of them. That woman can certainly stoke a man's blood._

He had felt exactly that the moment she danced with him. There was something about that mystery woman he hired to seduce his younger brother that enticed him with just a single touch of her hand and a spoken word. She had such a sultry voice, refined yet infinitely seductive. Her movements were graceful but calculating. Reidar considered taking her for himself tonight. He would gladly kick out the two tarts he arranged to meet him after the ball so he can find out just exactly how alluring she would be tied to his bed. He had to remind himself that she had a more important purpose to do before he had his fun. With a woman like that pleasing Hans, it wouldn't be long before he spilled all the information Reidar needed to beat his niece. A scandal against Hans taking a mistress also had some potential if Reidar could let out that little secret to his Ice Queen wife once he had enough damaging evidence collected. _Poor Elsa. She might just divorce him if she knew._

"There's something else that was odd about her," the maid continued and broke through Reidar's thoughts.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well, before she went to Prince Jarle's bedchamber, she stopped by the kitchens."

"The kitchens? What did she want there?"

"Well, as I said your highness, it was odd. She asked one of the cooks for a pepper mill."

"A what?" Reidar asked.

"A pepper mill, your highness. It's this little device to ground pepper."

"I know what a pepper mill is!" Reidar said impatiently. "What did she want a pepper mill for?"

The maid shrugged. "I don't know. But the one I asked to keep watch over her said she carried the pepper mill from one of your brother's rooms to the next."

Reidar was intrigued. _Is this some sort of risqué tool I have yet to hear about? A pepper mill? What could she possibly do with that?_ Reider's imagination was now running wild but couldn't figure out what it could be for. _Well one of these days when she's not out taking in my brothers, I need to know myself._

He dismissed the maid and headed to his bedchamber. On the way, he met with the two brunettes he had asked to come over heading in the opposite direction.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"A lady came over and said we were dismissed on your orders, your highness," one of them said.

"What lady?" he demanded.

The two women looked rather afraid. "W-we don't know. She was masked. A woman in red with a dress like fire," said one.

"She sounded rather formidable that we were afraid to contradict her," the other added. "She was carrying a pepper mill."

Reidar couldn't believe his luck. _She's come for me? Well, I suppose I don't have long to wait to find out what she can do with that pepper mill._

"She's right ladies," he suavely told the two women. "Forgive me, I did make other arrangements tonight. Another time perhaps?"

The women nodded and looked rather relieved. He watched them huddle away quickly. _A woman that can frighten even the toughest of my whores must be quite formidable herself. I look forward to what she can do for me._

He reached his bedchamber and turned the knob with anticipation. He was already imagining that sultry woman completely nude with just a pepper mill in her hand.

The first thing he noticed was the fire on his grate was out. A chilling draft had permeated his chamber. He was about to call for his manservant when something hit him on the head. It nearly bowled him over. He realized it was snow.

"What the…"

The door behind him slammed and a noise like twittering voices hovered from all around him.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

Another snowball hit his face. He screamed as he tried to clear his vision from the icy mush. The noises were back and grew even louder. Something small, white, and round appeared behind the grate. It had three black dots that looked like a face on its tiny head. It jumped up and he realized the thing was made out of three balls, representing a head and odd feet. Reidar was observing it carefully when another one like it poked near the couch. A third came out behind the bedpost.

Then there were more round things, jumping out from all over his chamber surrounding him.

"WHAT ARE YOU?!" he shouted at the creatures.

They didn't answer. They just kept jumping towards him.

And then they bared their teeth.

***

Hans sat upon his bed, trying to read a book but couldn't really absorb the words. Reading was the last thing on his mind after his encounter with his wife in that hidden spot in the Westergard royal gallery.

Three hours of uncomfortable positions in that alcove had taken a toll on his body and he was looking forward to some relaxation with Elsa cuddled up next to him in the comfort of a warm bed. That was more than an hour ago. Elsa had told him to rest up as she had to do something first. He couldn't think of anything she needed to do other than rest with him. Certainly, her body was as sore as his considering what they've done in that alcove.

He was about to get up and look for her when his bedchamber opened and she came in dressed in the same flame gown he ripped apart a few hours earlier. It was rather fortunate she can recreate dresses at will so her outfit still looked as pristine as it did when she walked into the ballroom early this evening.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I had to dispel a bit of justice," she said as she took off her mask and laid something on the bedside table. He noticed it was a pepper mill. It took him half a minute to put it together.

"My brothers propositioned you, did they?" he asked almost gleefully.

"They were vile Hans," Elsa replied angrily. "They thought I was a whore when I was dancing with them and treated me like they owned me."

"So you paid them back with evil snow snot?" Hans laughed.

"I did. I sent Gunnar and Jarle just the mildly annoying Snowgies. They were the least disrespectful. Ivar was a prick so I added a dozen more to his bedchamber than the other two. I reserved the worst for Reidar as he was behind this scheme to put a spy in your bed."

"Let me guess, you made them pelt him with snowballs?"

"I thought between us you were the one with an evil imagination Hans," Elsa pouted. "I gave his Snowgies fangs. They bite."

Hans roared with laughter. "Oh my goodness! I love you, Elsa!"

Elsa smiled coyly at him as she approached him on the bed. "Then show me how much."

She began melting her fire gown away again.

**_-End-_ **


End file.
